


The Best Birthday Ever

by conej0s



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: Drinking, Fluff, Friendship, Kissing, M/M, Romantic Friendship, SO MUCH FLUFF, cake ships it like fedex, marshall paints his nails
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-01-01
Packaged: 2018-01-07 00:43:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1113457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/conej0s/pseuds/conej0s
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fionna's sixteenth birthday brings many surprises.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best Birthday Ever

            The Candy Kingdom saw few sleepy days. It was uncommon for there not to be some kind of commotion, whether it is a giant, sugar-thirsty monster, a kingdom-wide festival, or some kind of outlandish crisis. The average candy citizen, even with their relatively short-term memory, could probably recall at least sixty strange happenings in the last three months alone.

            It was for this reason that Marshall Lee lived on the outer reaches of Candy territory. Admittedly, his little lavender house looked a lot more like it belonged in a saccharine city of anthropomorphic sweets than it did in a damp cave. Nonetheless, it was quiet, and he didn’t have to get out his parasol if he wanted to play some chords on his front porch. He didn’t have to worry about noise complaints from neighbors, or being woken up by the bustling, daytime streets of the busy kingdom. It was just him, his little house, and the vampire bats that occasionally took refuge in his cave.

            This particular day, though just as busy as any other in the kingdom of sweets, was different. He was more than obliged to be in the crowded city among its high-strung residents, because come nighttime, he and the Scream Kings were going to play a special gig.

            Fionna’s birthday was always a big deal in the Candy Kingdom. It was very nearly a national holiday; every hotel in the kingdom would be booked solid with admirers, friends, and allies coming to join the celebration. People wanted a chance to thank their heroine and wish her a happy birthday. Walking into her tree house in March meant wading through a sea of gifts. In the days leading up to the 14th, walking through the kingdom was like looking through a kaleidoscope, what with all the streamers and balloons.

            This year was a big one, too. She was turning sixteen.

            A few days ago, Marshall remembered passing a dress shop and noticing the chaos inside; several designers, some affiliated with the shop and some not, fighting for Cake’s attention. The undead teenager almost felt bad for his blonde friend. She was never one much for dresses, but you can bet the farm on her ending up in one Thursday night.

            A few hours before Cake’s dress shop bombarding, he recalled sitting in the royal courtyard with the cat, begrudgingly helping her plan.

            “Oh my goodness, it’s going to be a busy day. I’m going to wake her up at six sharp so we can give her a bath and do her hair up. I’m still deciding between something spunky, or something formal.” Cake read off of a long checklist as she sat at one of the ornate courtyard tea tables.

            “Cake, this blows. Can’t you get like, LSP or someone to help you with this?” The half-demon complained to deaf ears.

            “We’re gonna skip makeup, since Fionna always eats the lipstick…”

            He drummed his fingers on the table.

            “Ooh! I need to buy some ribbons from the Shopping Mall Kingdom, and shoes! She can’t be going barefoot on her special day!” The calico noted, mostly to herself.

            “She’s just gonna take ‘em off and run around barefoot anyway.”

            The feline snapped her fingers, but her eyes didn’t leave the list. “That’s right! Maybe I should pick up some flats in case she gets uncomfortable. Hey! How about I get some cute nylons, too?”

            “Cake, I don’t caaaaaaaaare.” Marshall whined as he melted into a grotesque puddle of black, slimy tentacles.

            The cat glanced at the puddle of vampire at her feet before returning her eyes to her list. She clicked her tongue dismissively.  “Lee, that’s unattractive. Pick yourself up.”

            “I’m gonna pick myself up and leave.” He said, shifting back into a teenager. “Let Bubblebutt help you with this girly crap.”

            Cake’s eyebrows furrowed in offense. “I will, and I’m telling him you call him that.”

            He stomped away, cheeks red and axe in tow. He thought he heard his acquaintance mutter something along the lines of, “He’s getting a little too old for tantrums,” to herself, but chose to ignore it. He had better things to do, anyway.

 

            Since then, he’d been trying to steer clear of Cake, and especially the prince.

            If Cake was excitable about Fionna’s birthday, Gumball was consumed by it. This was just his type of thing; frilly, bloated, expensive parties. His grand foyer looked like it was hit by a big, pink, lacy tornado. An entire committee of candy citizens was working on the decorations while some of the kingdom’s best seamstresses worked hard on embroidering a brand-new set of curtains for the ballroom windows. A reporter or two stormed about the chaos, occasionally asking the designers and committee members questions.

Needless to say, the half-demon took two steps into the ballroom before turning on his heel and deciding to head somewhere else.

The royal kitchen was even more of disaster. Ingredients, confections, and stray dough were everywhere. Cooks clad in white mulled about the saccharine-smelling room. The sickeningly sugary smell of too many freshly-baked sweets made the vampire nauseous. The previous day, he served as the princes’ taste tester, and after that, he didn’t know if he would blow chunks or pass out first.

            “Bubba,“ The vampire began over the loud whir of an electronic mixer. “You know I don’t like eating mortal food. Can’t you get someone else to-“

            The other teenager huffed. “For the last time, Marshall Lee: No! You haven’t pitched in much at all in the last few days. At least do me this one favor.”

            “I’m going to barf, dude, please-“

            “You’ve only had four tarts, five brownies, and three slices of cake.” The prince rebuked, likely without realizing how much food he was actually listing.

            “That’s a lot for me, Bubblebutt.” In all honesty, Marshall didn’t intend to use the nickname. He actually almost regretted it, had it not been for the chain of events to follow.

            Gumball turned his head to glare at the vampire, but it backfired when he accidentally lifted the whisk out of the bowl and dough went everywhere. Every other chef in the kitchen either turned to stare or ducked to avoid the splatter. He yanked the mixer cord out of the wall, and dropped the mixer into the bowl in what the vampire can’t help but call a hissy fit. He ran his fingers through his hair and faced his friend.

            “You have five seconds to leave this kitchen before I throw all the curtains open.”

 

            It had been a long week.

            Marshall  _was_ pitching in, in spite of what his friends seemed to think. He was hauling his band members out of their respective dimensions, cesspools, and purgatories to do a birthday concert for the guest of honor, and the lineup was all of her favorite songs.

            Now, he was helping his roadies and some volunteering candy citizens haul amps onto a fairly-sized stage in the main courtyard of the royal castle. None of the equipment had been broken yet, which was always a promising sign. He was hooking wires up and checking the lights when he noticed, with a flicker of excitement, the lack of clouds in the sky. He raised his parasol to get a view of the mountains to the west, and the clouds were so sparse above the Ice Kingdom that he could almost make out Ice Queen’s lair. An eminent clear night and no damaged junk; this was going to be a good show.

            Things got better when he ran into the Gumball a while later in the ballroom, where he was readying the refreshment table.

            “Hello, Marshall.” The prince greeted casually, as if he wasn’t carrying enough booze to take down a sizeable dragon.

            The half-demon eyed the bottles the prince held by the necks. “What do you got there, Bubs?” He asked, as if he didn’t know.

            “They’re my best champagnes and dessert wines, and no, they are not for Fionna, and _certainly not_ for you. They were requested by The Duchess of nuts and some of the other princes. I repeat; they are not for you.” He set the bottles down on the wine table, eyeing the vampire with distrust.

            ‘Look with your eyes and not with your hands’ was an alien concept to Marshall. He may have been around for a millennium, but he never went to kindergarten. Without a moment’s hesitation, he selected a bottle and examined it. It was dark green with a light pink label, and a long, slender neck.

            “Marshall, be careful. That’s one of my best dessert wines. I’ve been aging it for a while now, and if you shatter it all over my velvet rug, I’ll skin you alive.”

            “Rosy.” The vampire mispronounced, reading the label.

            Gumball sighed before grabbing the bottle from the undead teenager. “It’s Rosé, my personal favorite. It’s the middle ground between a red wine and a white wine, although it’s usually classified as a white wine.”

            Marshall snorted. “You mean it’s a _pink_ wine? Everything is pink with you! Don’t you get sick of pink?”

            “No one calls it that, Marshall Lee. It’s called Rosé.” Bubba corrected him, circumnavigating the question.

            “Pink.” He asserted.

            “ _Rosé_.” The prince emphasized.

            “It’s pink. Like everything else about you. I bet even your frigging briefs are pink.”

            The heir frowned, his face growing red. “Don’t you have a stage to finish setting?” He remarked sourly, placing the bottle on the table.

            The vampire king then went on his jolly way, after having poked enough fun at the stuffy monarch.

            Gumball did have a point. It was time to start over to the stage and finish adjusting the lights and the fog machines. They would have done these things earlier, but Cinnamon Bun had been helping with the amps and where there is Cinnamon Bun, there are things awry.

            The sun had sunk down past the snowy mountains to the west, and scarcely a sliver of it was still visible. Marshall was looking forward to dropping his parasol in favor of an electric bass. The sky, though purple now, was still crystal-clear, and some of the stars were already coming out. The moon was but a thin crescent, low in the sky. It could have been his imagination, but among the lightening bugs, the vampire could’ve sworn he’d seen a skeleton butterfly. It was shaping up to be one great night.

           

            “For the last time, hold still.” Prince Gumball, now decked out in his entire fancy royal garb, demanded in frustration.

            Another thing Marshall Lee didn’t know: tying bows. He walked into the royal ballroom moments before the guest of honor was to arrive, his shirt not tucked in, and his tie in a sloppy knot.

            Bubba, being the compulsive busy-body he was, stomped over to his friend and set his clothes right, tucking his shirt in and tightening his suspenders with nothing short of brutality. The royal was now working furiously at the half-demon’s red bow tie.

            “I told you to be ready, Marshall Lee. This is not ready!” He lectured after having his way with Marshall’s tie. “What did you do to your hair?”

            “I slicked it back.” He ran his fingers through his black hair, which was tacky with product.

            “I asked you to get your hair out of your eyes, not put a bunch of bat guano in it.” He criticized, running a hand over his friend’s head. “This is going to be a nightmare for you to wash out.”

            He gave a little smile at the prince’s mothering before pulling a small can out of his pocket. “It’s just mousse.”

            After grumbling for a moment, Gumball finally said, “Well, at least I can see your eyes for a change.”

            Not three seconds later, the grand, double-doors opened. There entered the birthday girl, decked out in a big, ruffle-covered, turquoise ball gown. The vampire king made a smug note of Fionna’s chubby little feet, occasionally popping out from under her elaborate dress as she walked. They were, of course, clad in white nylons, but they were still shoeless. In keeping with her need to be action-ready at all times, Fionna was wearing her tattered, green backpack. Needless to say, this was against Cake’s advisory, but the blonde swore off of purses a few years ago, when she’d last worn a dress.

            Fionna looked rather uncomfortable without her bunny hat and the freedom of movement that her skort normally permitted. Watching her grab fistfuls of her dress to run without regard for whether or not it made her petticoat or bloomers visible made some of the more eloquent attendees, including Gumball, uncomfortable, but Marshall just thought it was adorable. It was kind of funny to watch the human be herself in spite of her setting and dress. She stuffed the meticulously made apple tarts at the ordure table into her mouth with all the grace of a forest troll. You can take the girl out of the adventure, but you can’t take the adventure out of the girl.

            After dealing with a barrage of birthday wishes, and successfully depleting the apple tarts, the blonde scampered over to where Gumball, Marshall, Lumpy Space Prince, and several others stood. The candy heir was of course, sipping a glass of his stupid pink wine in between banter with the other princes.

            LSP wanted to gossip with his long-time friend, and the vampire was never one much for that kind of junk, so he just stood in the circle of people awkwardly, for lack of anything better to do. He was actually pretty glad when Fionna put the, “Did you see so-and-so’s dress?” discussion to rest by coming over.

            The human released her dress from her fists. “This party is really fancy, Peegies. The tarts had little bunny shapes toasted onto them, and everybody’s all dressed up.”

            “You’re enjoying it though, right? I know it’s a little stuffy, but I plan to turn on some dance music later on, once the less footloose guests take their leave.” Gumball smoothed over his mauve suit and adjusted his bowtie.

            “All my friends are here, Gums. That’s what matters.” She finger-combed her hair, unused to it being tame, untangled, and free from its rabbit-fur prison. “But I am gettin’ tired of taking fifty years to do anything around here. People keep stopping me to give me gifts and stuff. She reached into her backpack, and when her hands left it, they were covered with power rings. “These are all from party bears! Each one gave me like, a bazillion rings.”

            “Well then,” The prince added, “I hope you aren’t sick of presents just yet. I have something very special for you.” He one-handedly reached into the pocket on his waistcoat, unearthing a little velvet box, and opening it with a flick of his fingers.

            Marshall craned his neck to see the contents of the box. It was a tiny, round bottle with a cork in it. A ring around the neck attached the bottle to a gold chain. He couldn’t tell what was in the bottle, but it flickered with ferocious intensity.

            “What’s in the bottle?” The half-demon asked, raising an eyebrow.

            “It is a small-scale stimulation of a dragons’ soul. I engineered it myself. I wanted to get you something… _cool_. You needn’t worry about the bottle breaking, as it is shatter-proof.” Gumball handed his drink to Marshall, and gingerly removed the necklace from its box. He secured it around his friend’s neck.

            She examined the pendant, holding it out for the vampire to see. Upon looking closely, you could see a cloudy, dragon-like figure bounce around in the little glass prison. “Whoa. PG, this is crazy sick. Thank you.”

            A pang of jealousy hit Marshall. Firstly, because he didn’t have anything to actually give her, as he was just going to perform, and secondly because Gumball didn’t put this much effort into any of the presents he’d given the half-demon over the years. It was usually stuff like headphones or CDs. It was give and take, though, because Marshall only got the prince a present for his birthday once in all the years he’d known him. It was an afterthought too, to his lament. He just yanked an old band t-shirt off his hanger and wrapped it. Bubba once said that he wore it to sleep, but he was probably just saying it not to hurt Marshall’s feelings or whatever.

            Feeling inadequate, the vampire excused himself and walked over to the liquor table. He picked up a bottle of red wine and filled a glass halfway with it, against Gumball’s wishes.

 

            The prince made good on his promise to turn on dance music. After the snobby, evening crowd left, the night crowd poured in for some real partying. The ordure table was wheeled back into the kitchen, and anything expensive and breakable was put into storage. In their place came laser-lights and speakers. Before long, everyone from Vikings to cloud citizens to candy people was gyrating in the large room. Marshall even caught a glimpse of Party Goddess.

            This type of chaos was usually right up his alley, but he was growing anxious. All he wanted to do was take the stage and begin playing, but he didn’t even need to start over to the courtyard for another forty-five minutes.

            He was also growing concerned for Gumball. Admittedly, Fionna’s birthday was the only big formal event the prince invited him to consistently. Marshall would get invited to the royal’s parties, but usually only his casual ones. Never before had he been to a royal party in the Grand Ballroom, with an ordure table that was practically a buffet, and a wine sampling that gave even the ones at WildberryKingdom a run for their money. Heck, none of the royal events he’d been invited to before have a wine sampling. Man, did stuffy nobles like their wine, and Bubba was no exception.

            The prince actually looked kind of disappointed when the wine table was returned to the kitchen, in spite of the fact that he’d probably gotten a taste of everything at the table at least once. As for the Rosé, Marshall was sure that his pink friend was accountable for drinking a pretty liberal amount of that, too.

            Gumball seemed to handle the drinks well enough, though, because even after all of that, he was pretty collected, albeit for his untied tie and the occasional strange comment.

            A slow song came on, and Marshall decided to be a wallflower for this one. Another one followed, but Bubba decided to sit this one out, leaning awkwardly against the wall next to his friend.

            “Man, as much as I love wild parties, I can’t wait to get out of here and go onstage. Picking up my axe is going to be like reuniting with a long-lost lover or something.” The vampire commented offhandedly over the slow beat of the music. “I scraped the band back together so we could play Fi a birthday set.”

            Gumball knitted his eyebrows. “You have a band?” He asked, staring no where in particular.

            “Uh, yeah man. You were the manager when we toured, remember?” The bassist replied confusedly.

            He snapped his fingers. “That’s right, sorry. I’m just sleepy.”

            “I guess so, although I don’t know how you can be sleepy when the music is so loud that I’m practically yelling at you right now.” Marshall reasoned.

            “Hey Marshall,” Began the prince, stepping away from the wall, “Would you like to, uh…”

            “Shoot.” Marshall encouraged.

            “Oh, well… actually, never mind.” He chuckled awkwardly.

            Marshall was side-eyeing Gumball, but their eyes never met. “Whatever, man.”

            Gumball’s face betrayed a strange mixture of embarrassment, defeat, and confusion. “It’s just… uh, really dark in here. Do you want to go outside?” The prince studied the half-demon, as if he was looking for something.

            “Bubba, it’s just as dark outside as it is in here. It’s nighttime, remember?” The vampire felt almost as though he was talking to a first-grader. Perhaps the candy royal didn’t take alcohol as well as he thought.

            Marshall’s opinion didn’t seem to matter, though, as his friend started towards the door anyway. He followed, if only to be there if and when Gumball did something ridiculous in his drink-induced stupor.

            It was black as pitch outside, the stars shone like the glitter on Fionna’s now wrinkled and slightly tattered dress. The party inside had spilled into the courtyard and onto the stairs just outside the ballroom landing. A fair assortment of people sat on the stairs chatting. A large clique of party bears was standing just outside the massive ballroom doors, enthusing about the madness just inside.

            “Man, did you guys see that break dancing bikini babe? That girl knew her stuff.” One of the bears commented.

            Some of the others nodded and cheered in agreement.

            “Dang dude, these candy peeps can throw one sick party.” A bear with a bee on his belly put in.

            The bears’ conversation faded out of earshot as the vampire followed the prince to where he was laying on the grass just beside the pathway. He sat down, and noted with fondness the number of fireflies dancing about. The two of them sat in comfortable silence for a little while, looking at the stars. Bubba probably knew all the constellations, that little nerd. Clear nights were great for concerts and all, but Marshall had seen plenty of nice starry nights in his travels. It’s one thing to see stars in the city, but in the furthest stretches of Ooo, where few people lived for miles around, you could really see the stars. This was nothing compared to what he’d seen.

            So, there they lay in comfortable silence, staring off into the sky, thinking of nothing in particular. At first, the prince was yammering on about nebulas or something, but his ponderings died down. The grass was damp from when the sprinklers were on during the day, and Marshall regarded the idea of going onstage with a huge wet patch on his back and butt with distaste, but he didn’t bother to get up. After all of the madness the came with planning the party, he welcomed the idea of taking five.

            “Hey you two, are you already partied out?” Cake’s voice came after a while.

            “No, we’re just out.” The bassist replied, grinning and tucking his arms behind his head.

            He didn’t see his friend’s face, but he’d heard Bubba give a snort at his pun.

            The cat gave Marshall a light kick in the ribs. “C’mon, paste face. They wanted you backstage ten minutes ago.”

            The vampire shot up. “What?” He turned to the other teenager. “Bubs, how long were we out here?”

            Without sitting up, Gumball raised his wrist to look at it and pursed his lips. “I don’t know. I think I lost my watch.”

            The half-demon didn’t want to point out the fact that Gumball’s watch was still on his wrist; he just wasn’t looking at the right arm.

            Cake shrunk down to the size of a mouse and sat on the prince’s chest. “Hey Gum, are you gonna be okay for a little bit? Marshall and I are gonna head to the stage.”

            “I think I’ll make it.” He smiled, closing his eyes.

            The stage wasn’t far from the ballroom entrance; in fact, it was visible from the doorway. It was in the lower level of the courtyard, which was only a flight or so of stairs down from where the heir was stargazing.

            It was an awkward little stroll down the stairs. Cake and Marshall Lee used to mix like orange juice and toothpaste, but as the years went by, the calico grew fond of the undead boy. She still called him paste-face, Marshall noted with relish. It wasn’t until they reached the last landing that the vampire decided to strike up a conversation.

            “So Bubblebutt likes his booze, doesn’t he?” He tried to flip his hair before remembering that he’d slicked it back. A little embarrassed with himself, he went to chipping away at the black nail polish he was wearing.

            Cake sighed. “He always gets this way. That’s why he saves it for special occasions. According to Peps, he used to make an idiot out of himself whenever they’d break out the liquor. He’s built up a bit of tolerance now.”

            “I wish I’d been there for that.” He remarked, smirking.

            Another awkward pause.

            Marshall tried to bridge the silence. “So, Fionna’s sixteen now. What’s that like?”

            “She’s growin’ up.” Cake chuckled. “It feels like only yesterday I was changing her diapers. Then again, two of my kittens are in retirement homes now, and it was only a year and a half ago they were born, so I guess changing Fi’s diapers feels a little further back.”

            A large chip of black nail polish fluttered to the ground. “Now you know how I feel. You mortals need to quit aging on me. It ruins the fun.”

            “You need to stop living longer than the rest of us, paste-face.” She eyed him playfully.

            “For real, though, the time is just speeding past me. I can still remember first meeting you guys four years ago like it was just last week. Fionna was just a squirt back then. Now she’s almost as tall as I am.” You scratched his head absently, feeling the tackiness of the mousse in his hair. Maybe he did apply a little too much.

            “You’re not that tall to begin with, Lee. I’d say you’re about five six when you’re not floating.” Cake stretched until her eyes were level with the vampire’s.

            “Five seven by just a hair, actually. You get stuff like this down pat after a thousand years.” He corrected as the two of them walked through the grass, towards the stage.

            “Come to think of it, Gumball hasn’t aged a day, either. He’s supposed to be like, twenty-two now.” The cat scratched her chin.

            “That’s because he’s not mortal, either.”

            The calico stopped walking. “What?”

            “I thought Fionna told you already. You never thought it was strange that most of Bubba’s suitors are old prunes?”

            Cake laughed and continued walking. “I just thought he was a cougar-magnet.”

            The half-demon laughed so hard that he began to snort. After taking a breather, he assured, “Yeah, he’s almost as old as I am, kitty. He just doesn’t age physically, probably because of some weird candy science or something.”

            Marshall made his way backstage when they reached the courtyard where the performance was to be held. The fog machines were starting up, and little gaggles of people had gathered on the grass. All of his band members were already behind the curtain, getting ready. He tuned his guitar to the growing background noise of an audience gathering. It’d been a little over a year and a half since they’d all preformed together like this. The bassist felt a bittersweet sensation wash over him. The band never really broke up; everyone just went their separate ways for a little while. The keyboardist was teaching lessons in one of the coastal kingdoms; the drummer would occasionally play with local bands in the Nightosphere, ad the lead guitarist was working on his first solo album.

            Gigs like this one, with medium-sized audiences and clear nights freckled with fireflies, made him nostalgic for times when he did a lot of touring. Around a hundred years ago, it was all he did. He’d been in many bands before the Scream Kings, but he liked working with them the most.

            They were on in sixty seconds. The bassist opened the curtain just a sliver to glance at the audience. It was a strange concoction of candy people, party-goers, and acquaintances of Fionna from across the land. He spotted the birthday girl and the late-to-arrive Flame Prince sitting on Cake, who was stretched over the audience a few yards away from the stage. It took the vampire a little while to find Gumball, who was sitting with LSP and a few other princes on a balcony that overlooked the courtyard.

            “We’re on in ten!”

            Marshall Lee adjusted the strap on his guitar one last time before the curtains opened.

 

♫

 

            No one ever told the Ice Queen about anything these days. She always had to stumble upon news at the last minute.

            When she found out that it was the human girl’s birthday and that a huge party was being thrown for her in the CandyKingdom, the Ice Queen wanted in. How old was she turning now? Fourteen? She couldn’t keep track. To get in, though, she would need a gift.

            She ran down to her ice-cellars, deep in the heart of her mountain lair. In the long, cave-like corridor, the queen came to a door with a sign hanging from it. It read, “The Past Room”.

            There was a ton of junk in there she didn’t want! She threw the door open, glancing around. The sun had already gone down, so there wasn’t much time. She picked up the first thing she saw; a vinyl record.

            The Ice Queen stared at the cover for a very long time, trying to recall who the band was or what they sounded like. Fuzzy memories of pre-mushroom war rock and roll surfaced. She reread the title; _KISS: DESTROYER._ Strange little pieces of her childhood popped into her head, chunks of pictures and flashes of events.

            The only cohesive memory, though, was one of when she was about Fionna’s age. She pictured herself lying on an unmade bed with the radio on. She couldn’t quite remember what she looked like, and though she heard music on the radio, she didn’t recognize it. She was flipping through some trashy tabloid, dog-earing the pages with particularly hot guys on them.

            She blanked out for a moment before returning her gaze to the album in her bony hands. The sorceress could probably bear to part with the album, though she couldn’t help but recall a vague familiarity to it, one more recent.

 

            With a jolt, she remembered the significance of the record. Marshall Lee bugged her about giving it to him a few centuries back, but her lair was more cluttered than it is now, and she couldn’t find it. Figures, she’d stumble upon it now, intending to pawn it off on Fionna for admission to her party. The queen hoped that the vampire had forgotten about the record.

            She strolled out of the room, closing the door behind her. Now all she head to do was do up her hair and break out one of her party dresses.

 

            The Candy Kingdom loomed ever closer as the Ice Queen flew east. She’d taken this route many times before, and features in the land began to stick out; that one especially tall cotton candy tree that towered over its surrounding peers, the splash of green that marked Treetrunks’ orchard. Also noteworthy was Lord Monochromicorn’s creek-side stable, and the well-worn path that connected the CottonCandyForest with the grasslands.

            The main city, built around the trunk of a colossal cotton candy tree, occupied a clearing at the heart of the pink forest. The queen never failed to notice the unending stream of bubbles floating about the city. She worried that she would get caught in one of the sticky bubbles some day, and preferred the clear skies of her own kingdom. Easy flying: that’s how she liked it.

            She returned her eyes to the kingdom in front of her. Something about the candy capitol was different tonight. She was probably arriving in the middle of something, which wasn’t unlike her, as she was late for most things. Beams of neon light flashed about, and the sorceress could hear the faint, distant roar of a large crowd. The deep, thrumming sound of a bass guitar and a drum set playing in harmony was an undertone to the cheering and the crisp sound of an electric guitar. She only began to hear the vocals as she drew nearer; it was the voice of the Vampire King.

            The Ice Queen loved his songs. She would sing them in the shower and on her way to kidnap princes. She knew every lyric by heart, and could play drums for any of the songs. The idea that he was playing at Fionna’s party irritated the sorceress. What had that plucky little teenager done to make him so enthralled with her? Fionna could play hot cross buns on the recorder, and sing in her little auto tune voice. She wasn’t a cool, aloof musician like he was, or a stoic, chill drummer like the Ice Queen.

            She grew upset, her flight slowing. No one even wished her a happy birthday last year, let alone played an entire concert just for her. Gumball never let Marshall Lee play at any of his parties. He wouldn’t even let Marshall into the kingdom, most days. Why was it that when Fionna’s birthday rolled around, he pulled out all the stops? The prince also had to be reminded whenever it was the Ice Queen’s birthday, and he usually didn’t say anything until he was locked in a cramped, icy cage.

            Irritated, but not deterred, she flew on. She reminded herself to make Gumball edit her friend-fiction the next time she kidnapped him. That’ll teach him to forget her birthdays.

            She hovered above the kingdom, looking down. Surely enough, the courtyard was crammed with people of all shapes and sizes. They chanted the bands name and swung their hands in their air. Watching all of the excitement made the queen forget about her qualms with idiots who forgot her birthday.

            Speaking of idiots, she scanned the crowd for Fionna and Cake, and found them towards the front with the Flame Prince. They had some grade-A seats on Cake’s back, out of the chaos of the crowd. Every once in a while, the flame prince would toss a ball of fire, and from it would burst a flurry of sparks. The queen always thought his makeshift fireworks to be impressive.

            She had to admit that the adventuress and the prince of the FireKingdom made a cute couple. The prince was a little green for the Ice Queen, so Fionna wasn’t really stealing her thunder when she dated him. Flame Prince also kept the blonde away from Gumball, something for which the queen had also intended to thank him.  She never disliked Fionna. In fact, she wanted to be friends, but usually couldn’t because the adventuress couldn’t keep her mitts off of Prince Gumball.

            This reminded her to look for her beloved prince. She struggled to find him at first, not finding the boy in the audience. It wasn’t until she looked at the surrounding buildings that she saw him in a balcony. He was alone, but he didn’t look lonely or upset. He was just watching the stage contentedly, almost dreamily, his arms folded over the railing. Still though, he was alone, and that was something that couldn’t be said for him very often.

            What a perfect time to make a move.

            She continued spiraling, tightening her spins until she dropped onto the landing behind the prince. She sauntered up and tapped his shoulder.

            “Oh, there your are, Lumpy-“ He turned and froze, mid-sentence. Upon looking him over, the sorceress found that he wasn’t in tip-top shape; his tie was untied, his waistcoat was unbuttoned, and his posture wasn’t great.

            The Ice Queen gave a toothy smile. “Hey there, Gummy-Bear.” She paused, running through what she’d just said, and gasped. “I made a rhyme!”

            The prince’s eyebrows lowered. His surprise was now fading to annoyance. “So I noticed. Why are you bothering me?”

            “Aren’t you glad to see me, Prince?” She pouted.

            “What do you want?” Gumball asked, in an almost whiny tone.

            The queen clicked her tongue and pouted her lips, trying to sound cute. “I was just wondering if you wanted to dance.”

            “No, thank you. I’m busy right now.” Gumball turned back around, folding his arms on the balcony again.

            She frowned. “You don’t look busy to me.”

            “I’m enjoying the music with my friends.” He declared, gesturing towards the stage rather dramatically.

            The frown remained, but she raised an eyebrow, glancing around the balcony. He wasn’t really with anyone. The closest people were in the audience. “You’re the only one here, sweetie.”

            He leaned back onto the railing, brow furrowing in thought. “The princes left at halftime to get autographs, or sodas, or something like that. I think.” He countered, sounding unsure.

            “Well,” The Ice Queen smoothed her dress. “You seem lonely.”

            “I’m not.” He stated flatly, turning back around to stare at the stage. He leaned rather awkwardly onto the railing, and it seemed almost as though he needed its support to stand. His face was buried in his folded arms.

            “Don’t you want to dance? Have a little fun?” She implored, putting her hand on his shoulder.

            He didn’t look at her. His gaze was locked on the stage. “I’m fine.”

            She stood next to him, and craned her neck to look at his face. He had stars in his eyes as he watched the band perform. His eyes followed the front man as be bounced around and sang. Marshall Lee _did_ look pretty cool, strutting around as he sang and lazily strummed his bass. There was something about rock stars that made them alluring; their confidence, their aloofness, their stance. He would occasionally wink at the audience or flip his hair, and there would be a smattering of shrill cheers when he did.

            The Ice Queen straightened, as it donned on her. The prince didn’t care to talk to her because he was busy watching Marshall. She thought that she had him figured out, but obviously not. It was clear that he wasn’t interested in her type. No amount of kidnapping, or tea in her lovely, icy lair was going to convince him. It was going to take more than just being an alluring, fashionable queen to get his attention. She had a startling revelation.

            He was being entranced by the vampire’s cool, musician powers! There was absolutely no other explanation. That’s why everyone in the audience cheered a little louder when he would duck walk or spin. Bestowed upon him was the power of all of the greatest sexy musician wizards! The Ice Queen wondered where he’d obtained such a spell.

            “That’s some spell he’s got, huh?” She commented, leaning over the railing.

            The prince straightened, his face reddening. “Oh uh… yes, I suppose. He’s talented, and I’m happy to see that Fionna and the other subjects are enjoying it...” He rambled.

            “Where’d he learn it? That sexy guitar wizardry really works.” She dug, searching the boy’s eyes.

            His brow furrowed, and he stared into the sky for a while before answering. “I think he just learned it over time? He’s very musically inclined, and though charming, I don’t know if I would say that he’s ‘sexy’ exactly…”

            “Where, though?” She insisted.

            He scratched his chin. “I believe he taught himself. That of course, would require songbooks… and I can’t say I know where he found those.” He must have made note of the queen’s dissatisfaction, because he hastily continued, “Perhaps I can ask him, but you must… um, agree to something.”

            “What?” She asked, flipping her snowy hair.

            “I will ask him if you--“ He paused to hiccup, which was adorable,”You agree to leave. This is Fionna’s birthday party, and I loathe to be insensitive, but I think she’d rather you wait until tomorrow to bring her your birthday wishes.” He bargained.

            She folded her arms and harrumphed before sighing. “Okay, fine. But you have to tell me tomorrow!”

            Suddenly, she remembered the record. She held it out to him like someone would a letter. “You also have to give her this. It’s my well-thought out gift to her, since I heard she liked, um…” She glanced at the cover. “Men who wear platform heels.”

            “Okay.” The prince returned confusedly, taking the album and examining it. He put it under his arm and held his hand out. “Do we have an agreement?”

            She took his hand and shook it, and though she was sad that she had to leave the party, she was excited to have the secret to prince-wooing. “Of course, Gummy.”

            “Alright, be off with you, then. I will ask him, and I’ll let you know the next time I see you.”

 

♫

 

            The vampire basked in the roar of applause that came when the last track ended. He loved the afterglow of a show, and the smiling faces of the audience. He blew some kisses and threw up the sign of the devil before the curtain fell.

            As much as he loved the limelight, though, he was anxious to get back to his friends, and wish Fionna one last happy birthday before heading home. He could hear the beckons of his bed, and awaited the delighted meows of his cat. It had been a long week, a long day, and a long night, and he was eager to get off of the birthday high that hung about everybody. All of the frilly pinkness was beginning to get to him, and the smell of sweets made him ill.

            Backstage was a flurry of activity; his band mates chatted with various people, some of which were candy girls, in the case of the lead guitarist, others of which were associates, in the case of the keyboardist. Stage hands were giving each other high-fives and began unplugging equipment. He wove through the crowded stage, nearly falling through the curtain in an attempt to dodge a staff member carrying an amp. The stairs off the stage where mere feet away when he was stopped by a few candy girls.

            “Oh my god, you’re hot.” The first one observed. She had kind of an ice-cream theme, what with her white swirly hair and waffle cone dress.

            “Right back at ya’.” He answered automatically.

            She was about to reply when the other, who resembled a cupcake, shoved her aside. “Where are you from?”

            He scratched the back of his neck. “I’m from the Nightosphere, but uh, can I talk to you guys later? I’m lookin’ for the birthday girl.”

            Without waiting for a response, he circumnavigated the girls and left the stage. He flew upward and sat on the roof of a nearby gazebo. From there, he searched the crowd for a mop of blonde hair. Fionna wasn’t as easy to spot in a crowd without her iconic hat. Every time he saw someone who he thought was her or Gumball, it was always just some random candy person. He grew impatient.

            Luckily though, he noticed a group of people out of the corner of his eye, and sure enough, it was the guest of honor and her friends. They were chatting, and it looked as though Flame Prince was doing a demonstration of one of his new tricks.

            He abandoned his perch and flew over, landing rather dramatically just beside the group.

            “Goodness Marshall, there you are. We’ve been looking all over for you!” Gumball chastised lightheartedly, patting him on the back. The prince held on to Marshall's shoulder, trying to stabilize himself, as he was still a little tipsy.

            Fionna jumped up and down. “That was crazy sick! You were so awesome and adorable up there, you dork!” She raised her hand for a high five, which the vampire reciprocated without a second thought.

            “Hey, thanks girl. I do what I can.” He shrugged, giving her a toothy smile.

            He looked to Gumball and noticed that he had something under his arm; a vinyl record, and from the looks of it, it was not an unfamiliar one. “Is that a record, Bubs?”

            He rolled his eyes and took it out from under his arm. “Yes. It’s Ice Queen’s gift to Fionna, as she was unable to attend tonight. She said something about platform heels, but I don’t quite remember.”

            The adventurer looked at it and held her hands up. “Tell her that she can keep it. I’ve already gotten tons of gifts.”

            Marshall looked at the album cover. It was _Destroyer_ , the record he left at Ice Queens lair a century ago. He seethed at this, but decided not to get upset. “Hey, hey, hey, let’s not get too hasty. I’d gladly take this.”

            The prince smirked. “Marshall, it’s not your birthday.” He withdrew the record. The booze in his system must’ve made him a little more indignant.

            A frown tugged at the half-demon’s lips. “C’mon, it’s technically mine, anyway… see, I left it at the Ice Queen’s lair and she’s just giving it to Fionna when she was probably thinking of throwing it away.“ He tried to grab it, but Gumball held it out of his reach.

            “ _Technically_ ,” The other boy mocked, placing his unoccupied hand on his hip, “It belongs to Fionna. It’s _her_ birthday present.”

            Marshall bore his fangs and whined, “She doesn’t even want it, Bubblebutt!”

            The heir gasped overdramatically, clutching the album against his chest with both hands. “What did you call me?” He hiccupped before continuing, “How unbecoming, Marshall Lee!”

            “Guys, it’s fine, you can have it; I really don’t care.” Fionna attempted to reason, patting Marshall’s shoulder. Her interjection fell on deaf ears, though, and the boys continued to bicker.

            “It’s not even an insult, you geek! It’s like you spend all your free time doing squats!” He rebuked as he tried to pry the album from his friend’s hands.

            The prince elbowed Marshall squarely in the jaw, and the vampire withdrew for a few moments before rushing back into the fray. “Why are you even looking at my butt? You’re a vampire, not an incubus!”

            Marshall glanced at Fionna, who looked visibly uncomfortable. “Seriously, you two, this is getting really awkward.” She tugged on the bow around Cake’s neck. “Cake, don’t you think that this is getting a little ridiculous?”

            Cake didn’t answer. She just watched things unfold with a smug grin.

            “Don’t compare me to an incubus! I have self-respect!” Marshall whined.

            Gumball held the record away from the scuffle as he tried to pin his friend to the ground. He forced Marshall’s arm behind his back. “You paint your nails, you stupid, butt-ogling goth!”

            “Just give me the record, you little--!” Marshall shifted into a bat and squirmed out from under the prince.

            Gumball’s response was to sit on it and stick his tongue out.

            Marshall shrieked, shifting back into his humanoid form. “Don’t sit on that! You’ll break it!” He got on his knees and tried to push the other boy off of the album, but he didn’t budge. “Move, you fat, pink dork!”

            “You are definitely not getting your precious record now, Marshall Lee. I expect an apology.” He folded his arms.

            Marshall stood, glaring down at the prince. “And what else, a kiss on the cheek? Just give it to me.”

            “Now that you mention it…” Gumball pondered, “Yes. I would like a kiss with my apology.”

            Marshall flushed, and kicked his friend lightly. “You called me a goth and an incubus! I’m the one who should be asking for kisses, not you.”

            The prince put a hand to his chest. “You called me fat multiple times! That is no such way to address a prince.”

            “I’m a king, so it’s okay.” The vampire sassed.

            The prince smiled. “’Vampire King’ is just your stage name, Marshall.” He said though giggles. “You are the prince of the Nightosphere, not the King of Vampires. You do not outrank me, especially considering that I actually rule my kingdom, whereas you have yet to inherit yours.”

            Marshall sighed, and sat down next to his friend. “C’mere.” He ordered after a short pause, although it sounded more like a suggestion.

            “Why?” The prince leaned in, anyway.

            The vampire took Gumball’s head in his hands, and closed the distance, smushing their mouths together. He was sickeningly sweet and warm, but it was not particularly unpleasant, and he was very obviously reciprocating within a few seconds.

            Cake cheered.

            “I’m sorry, Bubba.” Marshall mumbled into the prince’s lips.

            The royal pulled away, and Marshall noted with a mix of guilt and smugness that Gumball’s lip was bleeding from the accidental collision with the vampires fangs. That was unimportant, though, because though his lips were bleeding, his smile was a mile wide, and his eyes shined.

            The prince stood, picked up the record with one hand, and offered the other to help Marshall up.

            The half-demon gave him a low-five and stood up on his own.

            “A deal is a deal,” The prince said, presenting the vampire with the album.

            He took it gladly, licking the sugary blood off his lips. “I guess we’re even.”

            “Ugh! Finally!” Fionna moaned. “Man, Cake and I thought you two were never gonna get together!”

            Both boys turned their heads. “Wait-“ Gumball started.

            Cake stood. “When are you guys just gonna go on a date or something? You act like you’re married, for glob’s sake.”

            Marshall exchanged blank looks with his “friend”.

            The cat chuckled. “When we couldn’t find either of you before the concert, LSP figured that you were probably makin’ out or something, and then I find you two, and you’re stargazing together. Reminds me of when Mo-Cro and I first met.”

            The prince avoided eye contact. “In truth, Marshall, I was growing rather fond of you, as even the Ice Queen seemed to point out…”

            He suddenly felt stupid for not picking up on anything Bubba was doing. He recalled the comment Gumball made about seeing his eyes for a change, and how he ran his fingers through his stupid, mousse-y hair. He realized that Gumball was probably about to ask him to dance when they were leaning against the wall, but backed out of it at the last minute. They didn’t go outside because Gumball thought it was dark, they went outside because the prince wanted to be alone. He also remembered the way the prince looked at him with starry eyes as he preformed. The fact that Ice Queen could tell what was going on better than he could made him feel like one of the most obtuse morons on the planet.

            Recovering from a brief moment of inner embarassment, Marshall turned to Gumball. “Hey, it’s fine.” He slid the vinyl under his arm and took Bubba’s hands in his own. “Why don’t we, like, do this dating thing? It’s worth a shot.”

            “Yes, I think I’d like that.” The prince’s pink cheeks grew a little pinker.

            “Now kiss!” Cake yelled, and a few random people turned their heads.

            The prince flushed. “Cake, don’t make a scene, we don’t-“

            Marshall cut him off, this time with a more carefully placed kiss. He was already bleeding in one spot, and he didn’t want to make things worse. The prince didn’t seem to mind much, though, as he happily reciprocated, his arms curling around the vampires back.

            Cake let out a loud, “Whoop!” as she waggled her arms about like noodles.

            “Best. Birthday. Ever!” Fionna declared, pumping a fist in the air.

           

            Ice Queen never did hear back from Gumball on Marshall’s guitar wizardry, and was disappointed not to find him in his bedroom the next morning.

**Author's Note:**

> baby's first fic? eeh, more like baby's first published fic. I've written a lot of fic, all of which i chickened out of uploading.
> 
> if this fic seems a little disjointed, it was because it was originally meant to be much longer with a developed friendship between marshall and ice queen, and the guitar wizardry was going to be an actual subplot. i can never commit to long fics, though, so i decided to save you all some trouble and make it into a one shot. i actually had to cut out a really funny interaction between marshall, his band, and the ice queen, which makes me a sad panda, but hey, if i didn't this would never have gotten posted, so yeah.
> 
> i might revisit this in the future and finish it as it was originally intended, but take it as it is now.


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